


Everything For a Reason.

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Adorable, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Coffee, Cute, DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH, Dogs, Dorks in Love, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Gay, Love Confessions, M/M, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22151911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: When Pete loses his pet dog in a crowd, he doesn’t expect anything more than to just catch Hemmingway and move on with his day. But some guy named Patrick found his wallet on the ground, and gave it back. This sparks something in Pete. He didn’t know for sure, he just felt it was true, but he and Patrick were fated to meet. There had to be a reason.I swear the chapters will get longer as I go on. Just hang in there for a moment.
Relationships: Andy Hurley/Joe Trohman, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 18
Kudos: 14





	1. He was a boy, he was a boy, can I make it any more obvious?

Pete strolls down the streets of downtown Chicago, holding Hemmingway's leash tight in his hand. The breeze moves softly through his ebony bangs, lifting them up then pushing them back against his forehead. The smell of nearby stores and pizza stands drift through the air, too, creating the most peaceful Chicago scene in history.

As Pete was taking in the scenery he'd already seen a million times, Hemmy stuck his head up in alarm. Pete looked down at the dog and said, "You smell something, buddy?" Hemmy harrumphed in agreement before tearing away from his leash and down the streets of Chicago. Pete yelped in alarm. "HEMMY!!" he cried out, "Get back here!" He broke into a sprint, chasing after the bulldog. He awkwardly gasped apologies to the people he ran into, and ignored his legs when they began to get sore and tired. Why is it that you never know how weak you are until the least convenient moment? Like, when your pet bulldog is wreaking havoc in the streets of Chicago.

Pete squinted his eyes and breathed heavily as the 5 minute mark of constant running hit. Everything hurt. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, nor could he feel his sanity. Protective thoughts raged through his head. What if Hemmy got hit by a car? What if I'm heading the wrong way? What if *I* get hit by a car?? 

As he turned a sharp corner, he was able to see the wrinkly white and brown body of his bulldog. He laughed in victory when Hemmy stopped at the dead end and faced his owner politely. Pete fell to his knees in front of the dog, gasping for air. "Oh my God, Hemmingway. You could've gotten hurt pretty bad." He reached out to scratch Hemmy behind the ears. Then he switched to a firm tone. "Don't you EVER run off like that again. I was scared half to death when you ran away." Hemmy bowed his head in shame. If dogs could speak English, there was no doubt he would be apologizing.

An unfamiliar voice came from behind them. "Hi, uh... Sir? I don't know. C-could you turn around?"

Pete spun around. "I look like a woman to you?" He smirked.

The man blushed hard. "N-no I thought you were a man but you never know these days because everyone wears hoodies and I didn't want to assume anything about you." He hid his eyes by staring directly at the ground. 

When Pete took a second to observe the man, be wasn't expecting what he saw. The man was wearing a lovely blue sweater with a grey scarf, and below his waist was a pair of khakis. He looked fairly young, maybe in his early 30s or late 20s. His skin was pale too. Not just normal pale, or even more than pale... he had his own nationality going on. But he didn't appear to be albino. If any of that makes sense. Anyway, he was also wearing a pair of square black rimmed glasses, which made his "look"-- if he was trying to pull one off-- complete. He had amazing lips, too. Not that Pete was into guys or anything. Was he?

"You look nice." He awkwardly managed to say.

The man smiled cutely. "Thank you. I like your eyeliner. It doesn't work on many guys, but you pull it off really well. I-I'm Patrick, by the way. Patrick Stumph." He stuck out his hand.

From the ground, Pete reached up to shake it. Patrick pulled on Pete's hand to yank him into a standing position. Pete fell forward a little, clashing with Patrick's chest. "Oh!" He exclaimed before backing up and dusting himself off. He looked Patrick in the eye, who was flustered out of his mind. "I'm Pete. Pete Wentz." 

Patrick's face lit up. "That's why you're familiar! You're that bassist for that one band! I've been to one or two of your shows before. Dang, why can't I remember the name? You, that curly guy, and that redheaded drummer? Gah!"

"Starts with an F." Pete cocked his eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. Watching Patrick struggle was so amusing to him.

"F-Fall something. Fall down?"

"Nope."

"Am I close?"

"Relatively."

"I-I can't do it. I give up, Wentz. Oh, I'm gonna feel so dumb when you tell me."

Pete walked forward and placed his hand on Patrick's arm. "Fall Out Boy." He said. "I'm in Fall Out Boy."

Patrick sighed. "I knew it."

"But you didn't know it. That's why I had to tell you" Pete teased him and lightly pushed him back in a *maybe* flirty way. Patrick smiled again. It made Pete feel weak. Why did the boy's smile have such a power over him? The slight upward curve of his lips, faintly showing the white of his teeth. It sent a shiver down the bassist's spine. Then, without thinking, the words fell out of his mouth.

"Wanna go get coffee or something?" He tried his best to appear friendly. Patrick hesitated.

Pete didn't know who or where he learned this from, but usually people respond before ten seconds has passed. Taking this to heart, Pete waited patiently until seven whole seconds had passed when Patrick replied. "You give off nice energy and I get the feeling you are a good man."

Pete's body started to buzz happily. "So it's a yes?"

Patrick shrugged, still holding the smile from earlier. "If you give me your number I can pay you back for the coffee. Someone stole my wallet recently and-- nevermind." 

Awkward silence, resolved by Pete patting his pocket for his wallet. A zip ran through his chest when he felt emptiness in his pants. "Oh... Oh my God." He panicked. "My wallet must've fallen out of my pocket while I was chasing Hemmingway. I'm so sorry. I--"

Patrick cut him out by holding something out to him. It was Pete's worn out brown leather wallet, in the same condition as it was before. "Sorry. I saw it fall out of your pocket and so I came after you to return it. Don't worry, everything is there." He smiled warmly, but awkwardly at the same time. 

The knot in Pete's stomach loosened. He happily accepted the wallet back and mumbled a small thank you. Patrick nodded. They held each other's gaze for a while, and Pete had never seen how blue Patrick's eyes were. It was striking; the azure pearls, rimmed by gold flecks that make them appear more of a green colour, but all of Patrick's physical features, no matter how beautiful, didn't even begin to compete with how he would soon make Pete feel.


	2. Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

At the coffee shop they ended up going to, Pete ordered a peppermint tea and Patrick ordered an iced coffee. Pete smirked to himself when he saw Patrick's order, since it could be a sign of something. If you don't know already, it's a well known fact that the gays love iced coffee. And since Pete might not be as much of a straight guy as he thought, and Patrick just so happens to be the cutest thing since Hemmy, there could be a little bit of science going on here. Who knows, though. Maybe the guy just likes iced coffee more than hot coffee or tea. The two sat outside together, Hemmy laying down at Pete's feet.

"So, Patrick." Pete began, "What inspired you to return my wallet?" 

Patrick fiddled with his straw. "I was just standing on the sidewalk and then I saw you run past and your wallet fell out of your pocket."

"I know that, but why did you give it back to me?"

The younger male shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought that since I didn't have my wallet, that I should prevent someone else from not having one either. Does that make sense?"

Pete nodded. He tried to not focus on how Patrick's hands didn't fully come out of his sweater sleeves, making him look freaking adorable. He also seemed to hold his arms closer to his body than normal people did. Did he have anxiety, or what was going on there? Pete took a shaky breath and moved on with conversation. "What do you do for a living?"

Patrick bit his lip. "Nope." He said. It sounded joking, but there was a hint of pain in it. "I am... between jobs." 

Pete looked down. "Okay then. As you know, I'm in a band, and we kinda maybe sorta definitely need a lead singer besides me. C-can you sing?"

Patrick blushed. "I like to, but I'm really shy about my voice and everyone says I'm good but I think it's all just sympathy, y'know?" He seemed to shrink a little. "I could like... audition for you and if you and the band think I'm good enough then I could be a singer." 

Pete thought that out for a moment. Patrick was a really cute man who didn't have a job and was self-conscious in his singing voice, despite how even his speaking voice made Pete want to listen to everything he says, whenever he says it. However, if he and Patrick fall in love, it might cause some unsteadiness in the band. But is it really worth the risk if you love someone? Of course it is. But who's to say Patrick and Pete would even consider being romantic? They just met today, so what're the odds that any of it will fall into place? And if Patrick isn't comfortable with his own voice, he might have difficulty singing in front of a huge crowd. But Pete can help him with that. Taking the next step and hopefully beginning the next chapter of his life, Pete said, "I can give you Joe's address. He's the guitarist, and he kinda started the band in the first place. You'll love him."

Patrick smiled. His eyes sparkled as he did so, and his whole face seemed to light up. "That sounds good. C-can I get your number too? Of course, it's for professional reasons only and we're probably going to be friends, so it would be convenient if we could keep in touch."

Patrick

Was.

So.

Freaking.

Awkward.

And Pete found happiness in that. "You don't need to explain why you need my number, dude. Just tell me how late I can call you."

Patrick didn't skip a beat. "Any time, really. Unless it's like... four in the morning. I get my sleep from four to eight in the morning." He stared emptily at his coffee. "That's why I resort to caffeine, hehe." 

Pete nodded jokingly. "I can relate." He said. Patrick smiled. They held eye contact again. What is it with these two and eye contact? It's like... whenever one of them isn't talking or monologuing about their whole life story, they just stare at each other. It's kinda creepy, if you think about it. They just met today, for crying out loud! The best thing to be thankful for is that they didn't meet and then be like "hey you're cool let's be a couple" since those kinds of things never last. Screw love at first sight, these two have something twice as good.

Awkwardness at first sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda got a lot of things to apologise for in this chapter, so I'm sorry. Anything you didn't like I apologise for. The shortness of the chapter, the minimal dialogue, the cliches, not talking about Hemmy much, etc. Whatever you didn't like, tell me in the comments and I swear I can fix it next week. But just a few guidelines for the comments  
> 1) be polite like Patrick  
> 2) be honest like Dan  
> 3) be PG like Phil  
> 4) be cool like Joe.
> 
> There will be no difficulty on number four for any of you, cause anyone who likes Peterick is a cool dude.


	3. Pre-Audition Jitters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I’m looking back at the first two chapters and I really don’t like them, so I hope this one is half okay.

ONE WEEK AFTER PETE MET PATRICK

"What do you mean, awkward? You're supposed to be the confident one here!" Joe shook his head as he, Pete, and Andy sat in a circle in Pete's garage. Pete had just told them about Patrick, and he accidentally revealed how awkward Patrick made him feel.

Pete chewed on a guitar pick. "I can be awkward at times!" He defended himself quickly, spitting the guitar pick in Joe's general direction.

"Well, I don't know if we actually need a singer." said Joe. "You sound okay, I sound okay, and Andy sounds okay. We're okay." He reached over to rest his hand on Andy's. The drummer blushed slightly. "I think we could use a singer." He replied softly.

"No offense, Pete, but you're better at bass guitar than you are at singing, and if you found another unemployed nerd that could possibly have talent, we could make him into a kind-of-employed nerd with talent he's putting to use. If... If that makes sense."

Pete sighed gratefully. "Thank you. This is why we need your opinion-- because I'm usually wrong and Joe just does the opposite of me."

Joe pushed Andy teasingly. "C'mon, man! You're my boyfriend! We're always supposed to agree."

Andy shook his head. "But if I agreed with you, I'd be wrong, plus the fact that Pete has a good reason for wanting Parker to audition." 

Pete corrected him. "His name is Patrick, actually."

"My bad." Andy bowed his head in mock shame.

"S'okay."

There was a silence. Joe was annoyed, Pete was uncomfortable, and Andy was calm as usual. Pete considered becoming vegan for a second. Every single vegan he'd met was calm and collected. However, he would have to give up pizza, and--

"So are we going to make a decision?" Asked Joe out of nowhere. "Are we going to let some guy Pete met on the street audition?" He looked over at his boyfriend, clearly begging him to change his mind.

"I think if you give him a chance, you'll love Patrick. He has all of the things we lack. He's serious, he's clever, he's humble, and no offense to either of you, but he's really cute."

Joe smirked. "Offense taken on my boyfriend's behalf."

Andy pushed him playfully. "That's not how offense works."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"I can prove it."

"With what?"

"My opinion." Joe stuck out his tongue. Andy did the same in retaliation. Pete watched idly from the side. He loved watching them "fight," especially since they never got to the actual arguing part. If that ever happened, Pete would still sit and see how it turned out.

Pete and Andy ended up getting Joe to join their side, with enough compromises. Andy couldn't store his drumsticks in Joe's curls for the rest of the month, and Pete couldn't launch picks at Joe for two months. It was going to be hard because a) Joe's hair was perfect for temporary drumstick storage, and b) it was fun to spit the small, triangular plastic picks at Joe's face. 

it was going to be worth it, cause soon Pete would have a different person to launch picks at. Someone shorter, with icy blue eyes, light brown hair, pale skin, and an unforgettable smile. Someone who was uncomfortable with the sound of his voice, but then he was brave enough to accept an audition. Someone who made the best first impression, to the point that Pete fell slightly in love with him. Someone who loved iced coffee, and got minimum sleep each night. Someone with the name Patrick Stumph.

* * *

***ATTENTION*** The following scene from now until the end of the chapter is from the perspective of Patrick Stumph. Enjoy. 

Patrick felt nervous about the upcoming audition. From what he'd known about Pete and from what he'd witnessed at the Fall Out Boy shows he attended was that all three of the members were really good at what they did. Of course, the melodies could use a bit of work, and the lyrics weren't exactly perfect, but the level of skill on the instruments was beyond anything Patrick thought he could do. Maybe he should've practiced music today instead of practicing what to say. He had a headache, and it was definitely just the anxiety in his system that would refuse to leave until the audition was over.

He decides to pull out his phone and call Pete. The bassist picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?" He said. His smooth deep voice chilled Patrick's spine.

"Hey, Pete." Patrick chuckled nervously and tried to think of what to say. "I was just checking in on you to see if you still want me to audition. I swear I'm not really good... I just like to sing."

"Bullcrap." replied Pete. If you could hear a smirk in someone's voice, it would be now. "I want you to audition. I talked it out with the boys, and we all want you to audition. Isn't that amazing?"

Patrick could see himself shaking as he looked over at the bedroom mirror. Stop it, he told himself, Stop shaking. Sadly, the body does not work like that and he could not stop shaking. Pete's beautiful voice kept making him even more nervous. Because now he remembered two things he had to remember to do: sing the right notes and impress Pete Wentz. "Pete, I'm really nervous." He whispered. "I really need this shot at a band, and if I screw up, or if I look bad, or if I have a voice crack, or if anything goes wrong... I don't know, Pete." His vision clouded with tears.

Pete shushed him quietly. "Text me your address." He instructed. "I'm coming to get you."

Patrick sniffled. "What?" He asked.

"Text me your address, Patrick. I'm bad at talking over the phone."

Patrick didn't hesitate to type his address into a message and send it to Pete's contact. "There." He said into the receiver. "I sent you my address."

Pete laughed a little. "I've never seen you around before last week, so why are our houses so close? I could've just walked."

Patrick looked out the window. And yes indeed, a car with Pete inside of it was pulling up to the curb next to his house. "I'm going to hang up now, okay?" He informed.

"Okay."

Patrick clicked the red circle on his screen and opened the door for Pete. The bassist stepped inside, taking a look around the place. "You live alone?" He assumed. Patrick nodded. 

"Excuse the mess." He blushed. 

Pete was appalled. "This is a mess? THIS. This organized, clean space is a mess?"

Patrick shrugged. "I'm a neat freak."

Pete cocked his head to the side. "You're more neat than you are freak, you do know that, right?"

Patrick crossed his arms. "Very smooth, Wentz." He commented sarcastically. "But thank you for the compliment."

Pete smiled. “No problem. There’s something I would like you to do before I take you to Joe’s house for the audition.” He walked over, pulling Patrick by the arms, to sit on the couch. Patrick's mind went to the gutter, and he hoped it wasn't what he thought it was. Instead of asking, he faced Pete and gave him a look as if to say, _this looks highly suggestive of you_. “It’s not _that_ kind of favor.” Pete coughed, blushing from head to toe. 

Patrick laughed. “Good.” He said. “Good, good.”

Pete cleared his throat. “I want you to sing something for me.” He suggested.

Patrick's heart stopped. There is no way he was prepared for this. Like, he hadn’t warmed up his voice yet and he didn’t know what to sing. But this was Pete Wentz, whom he wanted to impress, and so he might as well just go for it, right? What’s the worst that could happen? Oh god, what IS the worst that could happen? He might mess up, and Pete would walk out the door, and he wouldn’t get to audition, and he wouldn’t have a job still, and worst of all... he would never see Pete again. Not that he was in LOVE with Pete or anything... was he? Maybe but just a little and– oh no Pete probably thinks he looks so weird right now. Say something. Say something! Gosh darn it Patrick, SPEAK! “Um... what song do you like?” He ended up saying.

Pete shrugged. “I like Ed Sheeran, but don’t you dare tell Joe. It’s a secret.” He snickered playfully. Patrick relaxed his shoulders just a little.

“I’m sorta a fan, I guess. I could go get my guitar and play one for you.”

“His song, One, or one of his songs?”

“One of his songs.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Un-unless you want me to play the song, One, I can.”

“No no no, you do you.”

“Oh. Okay. Um... one moment.” Patrick stood up to go get his guitar from his bedroom. On the way, he reflected on how awkward that encounter was. After all, there is literally no casual way for two grown men to talk about Ed Sheeran. Like, you can try, but it’s always a bit uncomfortable. He snatched his guitar from the case, not caring to tune it since he already did earlier. Pete was staring off into space when Patrick returned. He didn’t make a sound or snap to attention until Patrick strummed once, just to see if the bassist was awake or just sleeping with his eyes open.

“Which song?” asked Pete.

“I’m A Mess. It’s too relatable right now, heh.” Patrick joked quietly. Pete smiled in approval.

“I’m listening, dude.” He said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Patrick took one last breath before closing his eyes and playing the dang Ed Sheeran song.

“Oh, I’m a mess right now  
Inside out  
Searching for the sweet surrender  
But this is not the end  
I can’t work it out.  
How?  
Going through the motions  
Going through us...”

By the end of the song, Pete was smiling harder than ever. “It’s perfect!” He exclaimed.

Patrick sank a little. “You don’t have to say that... I want your honesty.” 

Pete knit his eyebrows together. He looked concerned, but in this really cute way. It messed with Patrick’s mind a little, how beautiful this man was. “You genuinely sounded great. I think you’re what the band needs.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, definitely! When... when did you learn to sing like that?” Pete leaned closer. 

Patrick blushed. Pete’s cologne could be scented (smelled? Aromated? Words are hard) from a foot away, maybe one and a half feet away. Dang, it smelled good. 

“Do you think the others will like me?” Patrick wondered eagerly. 

Pete nodded and placed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “Totally. Without a doubt.” 

Patrick nodded, but all he could think about is how Pete’s hand felt perfect on his shoulder. He genuinely loved it, and he wanted to hug Pete or hold his hand or something but no. He wasn’t in love with a dude. Never ever ever ever. Not even if this dude has sparkling brown eyes and golden tan skin, wearing a tight black shirt under a blue jacket, and his eyeliner perfectly accented his features. Even if this boy had a smooth but rough voice that made you want to listen to anything and everything he said, and if he liked you for who you are, and thought you had a pretty voice.

Even if Patrick subconsciously knew he was in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you people stand my writing? One run on sentence after another, is all it is with me. You don’t have to be so freaking nice all the time cause I really want your honest opinion in the comments.
> 
> Clean comments, though. I’m not a snowflake, I swear, but I like to run a PG account.


	4. The Audition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this’ll be fun
> 
> Just to let you know there were some technical difficulties so that's why there's the paragraph with coding on it and how the song Patrick sings isn't broken apart like it should be.
> 
> Gender dysphoria says I sound like a girl when I write. Do I? I want to sound like a guy, but if I don't just let me know.

_Okay you had fun with Patrick’s POV, but now it’s Pete again._

“Patrick, this is Joe and Andy. Joe and Andy, this is Patrick.” said Pete, attempting to introduce people to people. It’s always weird when he tries to do that, y’know? Like, he doesn’t know if they’ll get along for a fact, and it’s just based on hope. 

Patrick stuck out his hand for the other two to shake. “Hi. I’m Patrick.”

Joe shook his hand. “I’m Joe.”

The drummer did the same. “Andy.” Joe looked at Pete and rose his eyebrows teasingly as if to say, _you like him, don’t you?_ Pete rolled his eyes and nodded just a little. Joe tried to hide his smirk as he and his boyfriend led Patrick into the basement, where the “studio” was set up. Pete followed, just to watch the audition. He believed in Patrick, and also _really_ wanted Patrick in the band. Just to increase the odds of them falling in love. As he sat down in his respective folding chair, he crossed his fingers.

“You didn’t have to bring your own guitar, you know?” said Andy. “We have seven thousand here.”

Patrick blushed, visibly embarrassed. “Was I not supposed to? I-I’m sorry. I just figured that–“ 

Pete held up his hand, just to stop anything worse from happening. “It’s okay, Patrick. Just... just do your thing and we’ll do our thing over here.” He smiled at Patrick and winked. Joe caught him doing so, and he kicked Pete from under the table. Pete kicked back. In his defense, if Joe and Andy could be in love whilst being in the same band, so could he and Patrick. But he wasn’t like, obsessed with Patrick. He just couldn’t imagine him with anyone other than himself, and that was that. He refused to call it love, or even a crush, because it wasn’t. He just had this _feeling_ that someone was meant for him, and that person was Patrick. Why else would his wallet have fallen out of his pocket in the first place?

Patrick cleared his throat. “You guys look like the rock kind of band, so is it okay if I play a Beatles song?” He asked. 

Joe’s eyes lit up. He sat up straighter, nodding quickly. “Totally. We all love The Beatles.” Andy nodded in agreement, and Pete gave a thumbs up. 

“Okay, cool.” replied Patrick. He closed his eyes and positioned his arms around the guitar before starting to strum.

_Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as if they’re here to stay oh I believe in yesterday suddenly._

Pete couldn’t help but notice how Patrick switched the pronouns around, saying things like “why HE had to go, I don’t know. HE wouldn’t say.” Andy noticed too, and by the end of the song he and Joe were holding hands, like the cute little couple they were. After the last strum Patrick opened his eyes to smile at Pete. Pete smiled back, trying to hide the tears in his eyes. Joe whispered something to Andy, who nodded back. Pete felt left out of the decision, but he knew he was biased, so it was actually best to leave him out. The whispering went back and forth for around two full minutes, and there was this awkward silence when it was over. 

“What-what’s the verdict?” asked Patrick, “How did I do?” 

Andy tapped his fingers on the folding table as a drumroll. “You’re in the band!” He and Joe announced proudly. Pete cheered louder than intended, throwing his hands up in triumph. Patrick was dumbstruck. 

“R-really?” He marveled, “I’m in?” 

Pete ran over to wrap his arms around him. “You’re in!” He screamed. He really wanted to kiss Patrick right then. But he couldn’t. It would be too soon. “I told you that you were amazing!” 

**Patrick’s Point of View now, okay?**

Patrick blinked away happy tears. “Thank you so much.” He whispered. When he was finally out of the shock of happiness, he broke away from Pete to talk to the other two. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” He admitted. 

Joe looked over at Pete who was visibly shaking. “And _you_ have no idea how much it means to _him_.” He joked. Patrick cocked his head. 

Andy stood up to lead Patrick upstairs and take him outside. “Pete likes you.” He said calmly. “He begged us to let you audition, and he couldn’t get enough of telling us how awesome you were.” 

Patrick felt stunned. “Pete likes me?” He repeated. “Like as in... boyfriend?”

Andy nodded. “You don’t have to do anything about it this second, cause you guys haven’t known each other long, but keep it in mind that he really wants to hold your hand.” 

A wave of ecstasy flooded over the singer. Two things in one day. First, he gets a role in a band. Next, his crush likes him back. It was just like high school again, but better now that he doesn’t have to care how many classes he has with Pete. “Do you think I should ask him out?” He asked Andy.

Andy shrugged. “It’s not my decision.” He slid his hands into his pockets casually.

Patrick sighed. Usually that comment would annoy him, but he was too ecstatic to care. “Maybe... maybe you could give me relationship advice? You and Joe looked really cute together and I just... I want to have that with Pete one day.”

Andy blushed. “You saw?” He mumbled.

Patrick nodded. Then he realized the two might not be out yet. “I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

They made wordless eye contact for a few minutes. Patrick felt bad for asking Andy about, well, you know, but he tried to reason with himself, concentrating on the fact that he didn't know at the time. He took a deep breath, looked up at the drummer, and said, "Thanks for telling me that Pete likes me."

Andy shrugged. "I just wanted to speed things up for both of you guys. If I think it could be a thing, I want to see it as a thing. You guys would be the perfect thing." He stared off into space after that, still smiling. Patrick admired his optimism. Well, it wasn't really optimism. It was just Andy hardcore shipping two people to the point where he gives one of them a not-so-subtle hint. But whatever, it is what it is. But whatever it was, it was helpful.

**okay haha you had fun there. Now it's Petey time.**

<p>"What's taking them so long?" Joe huffed, leaning against the wall. Patrick and Andy had been gone for at least five minutes. Five minutes that could have been spent on practicing.</p>

Pete scratched his neck. "Patrick's nervous, and you... you know Andy's the only good one at comfort. Out of all of us, that is." He took a while to think about that last part. _All of us_. What did he mean by _all of us_? Everyone in Fall Out Boy? Cause if so, that includes Patrick now. But he didn't mean to include Patrick in _all of us_. He just meant him, Joe, and Andy. But if he calls that _all of us_ , it's majorly exclusionary on Patrick's part. Pete's heart sank. He didn't mean to say Patrick wasn't in his group. Because, well, he was, but—

"Pete." Joe snapped. "Stop thinking, man. I can see the gears turning in your head, and in my opinion, it's okay."

Pete shivered. "You read my thoughts?"

"I read your face."

"O-okay."

Joe walked over to Pete and wrapped his arms around him. "It's okay." he murmured. "Change is hard, but it happens anyway. And after all, it doesn't even matter if Patrick loves you or not. Because in the grand scheme of things, none of us— nothing in this band— will ever really matter."

Pete broke away from Joe. " _THIS_ is why I said Andy is the only good person when it comes to comforting anxious people!"

Joe scoffed jokingly. "I'm sorry for not being _comforting_. At least I got the nerve to tell my crush I liked him."

"After two years, yeah. Patrick and I have known each other for a week and you know what I might do tonight?"

Joe rose his eyebrows. "What?"

Pete stuck his tongue out. "I might hug him."

Joe laughed. "Dang, that's romantic. You sure you want to do that this early?"

Pete pushed him playfully. "I do what I want, Joey. In fact, I just might go upstairs and hug him right now!"

The curly guitarist smiled and shook his head. "Alright. I'll be waiting so you can tell me how the hug goes."

Pete began to walk up the stairs. Midway, he turned around and gave Joe two thumbs up. "Wish me luck!"

"Alrighty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told ya it was gonna be fun. Whaddya say I toss in some trohley? There's already a little but it wouldn't hurt to have a touch more. Okay. It wouldn't hurt to have a truckload of trohley. Everyone should ship trohley. Joe and Andy are the best two members of Fall Out Boy, and their friendship is just... splendid. How they sneak glances during interviews and joke around with each other is just :')
> 
> Clean comments!!!!


	5. You’re Secret’s Out, And The Best Part Is It Isn’t Even A Good One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this Fic in general, I thought I was going to end it after Patrick gets in the band, but then I was like, "oh shoot Patrick and Pete have to fall in love!" so that's where this chapter comes from. 
> 
> PS: I will soon be better at writing about cuddles because this acey boy just got a girlfriend!!!!
> 
> PPS:At the start of this one I had to change "one week" to "one month" due to what made sense to me

**did we end with Pete or Patrick's POV last time? I guess I could check, but I'm lazy so here's Pete's POV.**

_Time skip: one month since Patrick had joined Fall Out Boy_

"Is it just me," began Pete, on the phone with Andy, "or does Patrick get really weird when he's around me?"

He heard Andy's voice change a little. "Maybe he's just adjusting?" The main thing about Andy's voice was that it was unsteady and kind of... well... awkward. And Andy was never awkward, unlike Patrick or Pete and sometimes Joe. 

Pete sat up on his couch, Hemmingway almost falling off his lap. "What did you tell him about me?" He half-demanded. 

Andy was silent.

"Andrew!"

"He... he was scared, so I--"

"What was he scared about?"

"It's a big adjustment to go from not having a job to joining some stranger's band in a week. So I thought it would make him comfortable if he knew you appreciated him." Andy put a weird emphasis on "appreciated."

Oh no. Oh no no no no no no. "Did you tell him I like like him?"

"Yes." Andy squeaked. "I did." 

Pete thought about getting mad at the drummer, but decided otherwise. This... this could help. If Patrick knew _this_ early on, then it could only go up. Pete could slowly put more effort into making Patrick feel okay, and at some point, the tension would release with Pete confirming that yes, he did have a crush on Patrick, and yes, he did want to date him. But... what if the friend zone comes into play? That can't happen. And if Patrick doesn't like him back, it's hard to be still friends with that kind of secret between them (trust me).

"What was his reaction? Did he get uncomfortable or did he become really happy?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that he was either of those."

"C'mon, man! You spilled my secret!" Pete sighed and stroked Hemmy between the eyes. The dog yawned and proceeded to turn around and lick Pete all over the face. "Hemmy, no." Pete managed to get out, only to get licked on the tooth. "God, dog." He muttered. (God, dog is also a palindrome, I noticed. You're welcome for that useless information.)

"Tell Hemmingway I said hello!" Andy chirped from behind the phone. Faintly in the background, Pete heard Joe say, "Wait tell him that Joe says hi, too."

"Pete or the dog?"

"The dog, Andy. I see Pete all the time."

"Oh okay. Um... Joe and I say hello to Hemmy." 

Pete pushed his dog down to the other end of the couch. "Nice to know you guys love my dog more than me. Fun fact, he doesn't know one note on the bass. However, I know many notes on the bass. He does nothing for the band. I do a lot for the band. Who do you love more now?" Pete didn't mean to be so salty, but he was. He was very salty. Why? Because his secret was out. I mean, it wasn't even good one, but still. His crush knew he liked him all because of a friend who just _had_ to tell him about it. Even if it _could_ result in something good, it still made Pete annoyed. 

"We all love you, Pete, but your dog is a dog, and dogs are naturally better than humans. It's science." Joe's voice was clearer now. "You're on speaker phone, by the way." He added.

Pete nodded. "Humans don't lick each other senseless just because we can." He contradicted. "However, Hemmy is one of the best things in the world, because he led me to meet someone I hold very close to my heart even though I haven't known said person for long."

Andy chimed in. "Who did you meet?'

Pete coughed. "Irrelevant."

"Fair." said Joe. Then the topic changed. "Patrick texted me, saying he write a few tabs that would work for _Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy_. I read them over and practiced them."

Pete froze up at the mention of you-know-who. "How... How do they sound?" He inquired, trying to sound normal, instead of a sweaty guy on his couch with a bulldog in his lap that won't stop needing constant petting attention. 

Joe laughed. "The kid's got talent."

Andy cut in. "Kid? He's older than you!"

"He's still a kid."

"That doesn't mean you can call him one, since you're one, too."

"Can too."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm no."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm yes."

Again, Pete just sat there and waited for it to even out. He found his mind drifting off to a fantasy where he and Patrick get to argue like that. Bickering playfully over stupid things and eventually solving it by just agreeing on something that wasn't even part of the conversation. He also imagined Patrick resting with him, his back pressed against Pete's chest as Pete's arms wrapped around him, along with his legs, asnd Patrick sang quietly to him. Then they'd fall asleep in the comfort of each other's arms, despite the numerous energy drinks that had been consumed in hours prior. Caffeine doesn't matter when you've already been sung and cuddled to sleep, does it? 

"Pete, are you still there?" Asked Andy. Pete opened his eyes to see his fiction was not reality. If anything, it disappointed him and left him feeling a little depressed.

"I'm here." He sighed. "But, uh... I don't have anything to say so I guess I'll just hang up here." He moved the phone from his ear and pressed "end call." Then he closed his eyes again and prayed for his earlier fantasy, only to fall asleep and get the weirdest dream. 

**Aw, Petey's all sad now. Since he's asleep, I'm going to switch to Patrick's point of view. I guess it might be a lot, just switching POVs whenever I feel like it, but it's honest work.**

Patrick felt like he had gotten hit by a truck. A semi truck heading full speed down the highway. He flopped onto his bed, instinctively texting his friend, Brendon. 

_Patrick: I have boy problems again_.

_Brendon: Whomst'd've?_

_Patrick: Pete Wentz_

_Brendon: OH I'VE MET THAT GUY. Yeah he's great._

_Patrick: great? What kind of great?_

_Brendon: Great bassist, great friend, and according to Mikey Way, great kisser._

_Patrick: that last part was unnecessary._

_Brendon: truth is truth, and you can't hide from it_

_Patrick: whatever. He's just really cute and I learned a week ago that he's kinda sorta really into me and I want to make a move but I don't want to be awkward._

_Brendon: oooooooh._

_Brendon: ask him to dinner or lunch or something._

_Brendon: he likes pizza._

_Brendon: hello?_

_Brendon: Patrick why won't you answer?_

_Brendon: P A T R I C K_

Patrick silenced his phone and laid down on his stomach. He wished he could get the confidence to do what Brendon told him to do. Normally, he'd have no difficulties asking someone to go out to dinner. But this was Pete Wentz, who made his heart rate increase just by the thought of his eyes and his lips and his clothes and... ugh that guy is perfect. He thought of texting Pete, but decided otherwise. Brendon's energy was exhausting, even over text. 

"Dear God, I need an adult." He mumbled into his pillow. "Preferably a male. A male with tan skin and a neck tattoo. One with a bulldog and whiskey eyes. One named Pete Wentz. Amen." He hadn't prayed in a long time, and he figured that what he just said didn't qualify as a prayer, but he still wanted to say his thoughts. When you live alone, you can do stuff like that.

**that was sad. Patrick's sad, Pete's sad, so there's only one thing I can do to make them both happy again. I guess since I'm writing in bold that means I have to switch POVs now. Pete's POV.**

Pete woke up from his nap at 4 in the evening. It was too late for lunch, but it was too early for dinner. Pete hated that period of time. To get his mind off of that, he whipped out his phone and dialed Patrick. He got an answer at the third ring. "Hello, this is Patrick Stumph, how may I help you?"

Pete smiled and replied, "It's just Pete."

Patrick chuckled softly. "O-oh. Okay. Um... why did you call?"

Pete laid down on the floor. "I'm bored. And I want to talk." He hoped he didn't sound too clingy or anything, because then Patrick might lose interest if he had any. "What are you up to today?"

"Oh, nothing. Had a small crisis but I took a nap and it got better."

Pete's eyes went wide. "You took a nap, too? I just woke up from one! We're sleeping buddies!"

Patrick coughed. "That sounds highly suggestive." 

"Yeah it does. But whatever, y'know? I said it, and we're sleeping buddies."

"Please don't say that."

"Slee-"

"No."

"-ping."

"Pete."

"Buddies."

Patrick started laughing. "Nothing stops you from doing what you want, right?" 

Pete shook his head, then realized Patrick wouldn't be able to tell that he did. "Nothing stops me." He said in a mock-gruff way. 

There was an awkward silence afterwards. Pete imagined the singer on the other end, nervously picking at his own sweater or chewing his nails. Pete felt a pang of something (maybe love? Just a possibility) poke his side, leading the following words to fall out of his mouth. "We should hang out tonight." He said.

Patrick was startled. He stammered for a while, then steadied his voice with a deep breath. "Okay. Who's house? Mine's a mess, and I haven't vacuumed in a few days, but if you want to we can hang out here."

There it is again. Patrick's organization laws. "I've been to your house. How about you come to mine? I can, like, pick you up at any time."

"Do you want to leave in five minutes? I want to see you as soon as I can. That sounded creepy. I take it back."

Pete snorted. "It's okay. I still have to get a shirt on, so it might be more like seven minutes."

“That’s hot.” He heard Patrick mutter to himself.

He rose his eyebrows and blushed. “What did you just say?” He asked, surprised.

”NOTHING! I didn’t say anything!” Patrick yelped. “Just... just get a shirt on and I’ll be waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope me and my girlfriend get to be this level of cute :3
> 
> This chapter WAS going to be longer, but the part I took out is too emotional and kinda romantic for this chapter, so I'm going to add it to next chapter.


	6. 10 Things I Love About You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love every inch of this chapter. However, I am kinda nervous to give it out, since it only took me two days to write, and I feel awkward about the lack of feedback on chapter 5. It's okay, though.
> 
> Thank you for 100 hits!

A sly smile remained on Pete’s face as he hung up, selected his favorite shirt, and drove all the way to Patrick’s house. He’d only driven there once, but he had an amazing memory when it came to directions. Turn right at the tree that looks like a torch, and then keep going straight until the blue house. Then, when you get to the blue house, turn right and count five houses down, and then you see Patrick’s humble abode. Pete rang the doorbell and checked his outfit one last time for any wrinkles before Patrick opened the door. “Heyyy, Pete!” He greeted awkwardly, “How are you?”

”Not too bad now that you’re here.”

”Y-you really feel that way?" Patrick stared wordlessly at him for a while, blushing slightly.

Pete nodded, and decided to take Patrick by the hand and pull him downwards. They were both on the porch now. "There's something I wanted to tell you." Pete confessed, "And I don't think I can do it outside." He led Patrick into his car, still holding his hand, and when they were both in the car, he leaned his forehead against the wheel. "I, um, I..." He tried to push past the awkwardness he was causing, and focused on what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it.

He felt Patrick's hand slide back into his own. "What is it?" The singer asked quietly. 

Pete took a deep breath. "I love you." He said. "I love you and only you, and I know Andy told you this, but I wanted you to hear it from me."

Awkward silence. Pete started crying, then stopped himself. It would look so weird for someone to cry after confessing love. But it wasn't the confession that made him emotional... It was the silence afterwards. 

After a few minutes, Patrick replied, "I don't know what to say to you right now. I mean, I like you, and I want to be your boyfriend more than anything, but you're crying and that makes me feel like I caused it. I-I'm sorry, but if I make you uncomfortable..." He was clearly holding back tears. 

"But... I love you." Pete looked up at Patrick and bit his lip. "A-And you love me. You said it yourself!" He unbuckled his seatbelt, figuring it would be a while before he actually drove. He saw the look on Patrick's face and it restored a bit of hope in him. The tears in Patrick's eyes seemed to contradict the smile on his face, then Pete realized they were happy tears. "I know I said it myself, and I know it was the truth. I love you, Peter Wentz. And I want to be your boyfriend (as I said before), but doesn't it seem like we're just doing this because Andy told me your secret?" He shrugged and gave him a concerned look.

Pete shook his head. "No, I think I actually love you." He stated.

Patrick cocked his head and smiled. "Okay. Um... are we boyfriends now?" He wondered.

Pete chuckled. "We could be."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"This is cool, I guess. W-wanna go cuddle or something?"

"Sure." Pete put his seatbelt back on. He turned the key into the ignition and drove all the way home with the satisfaction of not being single anymore.

**SCREEEEEEEE I LOVE THIS. Patrick's POV.**

Pete's house needed work. It was like... a frat house built for one. There was stuff everywhere, and the coffee table wasn't even a coffee table anymore, and even the couch had a weird stain on it. "Um..." Patrick managed to say as he stood still, avoiding touching anything. "Since we're dating now, can I clean your house?" Pete stood behind him, his hands on both of Patrick’s shoulders.

”Not today, but one day we can clean it together. Hemmingway is used to it, since it’s been like this since he was a pup.” Pete explained, taking a seat on the couch. Patrick tentatively sat next to him, nesting his head in Pete’s neck. It felt nice to have Pete’s scent this close to him. Pete fumbled for the remote, and when he found it he asked Patrick, “What’s your favorite Disney movie?” 

Patrick looked up. “Don’t make fun of me,” he smirked, “but I like _Ten Things I Hate About You_. Yep. I’m lame.”

Pete laughed. “Bro! That’s the girliest—“ 

Patrick nuzzled him as a gentle way to say _shut up_. “I am aware of my movie tastes.” He said. "And I am not ashamed."

Pete searched for the movie and typed in his passcode to rent it. Patrick saw him type it but he didn't remember the passcode, just out of respect. The two watched the movie together, and Patrick couldn't help but cry at certain parts. (And I admit I cried when I watched it, but the poem is too amazing).

Pete was asleep at the end, and Patrick kissed him on the cheek to awaken him. "Peeeeeete. Pete, wake up!" He whispered. Pete woke up slowly, looking around curiously. His eyes met Patrick’s, and he cocked his head curiously.

“Was that you who kissed me?” He inquired, smiling. Patrick nodded and kissed his cheek again. Pete sighed and lifted Patrick like a baby into his lap. The singer chuckled and put his hand on Pete’s middle.

“You have muscles.” He pointed out, “More than me, but still... muscles.” He stroked Pete’s stomach, awed by the muscularity. Pete laughed and kissed Patrick’s hair. They just cuddled for a while, silent except for when Patrick purred lightly as Pete hugged him. They both had their eyes shut somewhere around 9:00 pm, but they weren’t asleep. Pete had insomnia and Patrick felt weird sleeping in a different setting than normal. He opened his eyes and gazed at his newly appointed boyfriend, tempted to kiss him. Not on the cheek or anything, but to actually _kiss_ him. He was slightly nervous by the idea, but he couldn’t find anything better to do. “Um, Pete?” He squeaked.

Pete fluttered his eyes open and looked down at Patrick. “Yeah?” He replied.

Patrick bit his lip. “C-Can I kiss you?”

Pete smiled and nodded. It was subtle at first, but then he kept nodding faster and smiling wider. “I don’t know why you even asked! I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”

Patrick took a deep breath and looped both of his arms over Pete’s shoulders. They leaned their foreheads together, closed their eyes, and pressed their lips together. Sparks flew in Patrick’s mind. He readjusted himself to be more comfortable. After a few seconds he broke the kiss, just to tell Pete something. “I turn eighteen next week.” He said, “So it’s best if we don’t _do_ anything until then.” He bit his lip again. Pete rose his eyebrows.

“You act really mature for your age, y’know?” He chuckled. “Either that or I’m immature.” He felt like there was no way for Patrick to be cuddled close enough. Patrick smiled and pecked him on the lips.

“So you’re okay with the age difference?”

“I wasn’t going to do anything, _ever_. I’m not into that.”

Patrick shook his head. “Me neither.”

“Cool.”

“Yep.”

_Initiate awkward silence._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to customize a Spotify playlist for this fic. Song ideas? Sorry if this chapter was short, or if you didn't like it. I mean, it's been six chapters, so I think they deserved to fall in love this time. 
> 
> Clean comments!


	7. In which Pete forgets his ADHD medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been so long! I’ve just been upping my writing game by posting one shots of all types. I miss chatting with y’all. 
> 
> Patrick’s cat is named after a Simpson’s character >w<

**Patrick’s POV. April 27th.**

Patrick woke up in the morning to a text from Pete. _Happy birthday, baby!_ it read. Patrick smiled to himself and texted back, _thanks, Pete_. Then he instinctively rose from his bed to make himself a morning cup of tea. The air was still as he poured hot water into a kettle, and leaned against the counter patiently as it warmed. He felt the cool counter under his elbows, and Laughed as Smithers, his cat, rubbed against his ankles. It probably meant, “feed me, human,” but Patrick thought of it more like, “happy birthday, human.” 

He shuffled over to the cabinets where he kept cat things, and took out one can of cat food. When he opened it up by the tab, the smell of tuna and chicken reeked into the kitchen. Patrick made a face and dumped the contents into Smithers’ bowl as soon as he could. “Smith, how do you eat that stuff?” He asked the cat, disgusted. Smithers mewed in reply, then proceeded to chomp down on the brown mixture. Carefully, Patrick reached down to grab the water dish and filled it up with tap water. The bowl made a clicking noise as he set it back onto the tile. 

A matter of seconds later, the tea kettle released its familiar whistle. Patrick turned off the stove, poured the boiling water into a mug, and found his favorite flavor of tea: licorice tea. It’s usually meant to be drunk at night, so that you can fall asleep easier, but it tasted good, so Patrick broke the rules and drank it any time of day. He couldn’t believe that he was finally an adult, but it didn’t matter because he couldn’t drink alcohol and lived on his own as is. He thought of calling Pete and asking to hang out or go on a date, but he was shy and felt awkward asking for things to happen. He didn’t know Pete’s schedule, and he didn’t know what they would do, but he just wanted to see Pete’s crooked smile and hear his deep voice that could only be described as the colour of his eyes: chestnut. In fact, his heart was beating faster just because he was thinking about Pete. Weird. 

Patrick finished drinking his tea in ten minutes, and decided to call Pete. An answer came on the first ring, and it was Pete’s voice. “Hello?” he mumbled, clearly tired from either sleeping too much or sleeping too little. 

Patrick straightened his back and cleared his throat. “Hi, Pete, it’s Patrick.”

Pete chuckled and said, “I know it’s you; I have caller ID. What’s up?” 

Patrick stuttered as he talked, “I was wondering if we could hang out today. Maybe go to the mall or something?” he felt nervous, even though the worst possible outcome was that Pete was busy. _Oh wait,_ chimed a small part of Patrick’s brain, _is it really the worst outcome? There are so many things that could happen, and you pick something mild as the worst?_

Pete talked over the voice in Patrick’s head, thank god. “I think I’m free today. Should I pick you up around noon? It’s eleven right now, so that would give us both an hour to get prepared.” Pete sounded eager. However, the voice in Patrick’s head kept rattling off. _What if he thinks you’re clingy? You do seem to hang out with him a lot. What if he wants to break up, but doesn’t want to hurt your feelings? That’s possible!_ Patrick started to whimper. 

“Pete, are you sure you’re in love with me? A... A voice in my head is saying–“ 

Pete cut in to shush him. “Baby,” he said, “I love you. I know I love you. You’re a good person, and I am thrilled to be your boyfriend.” 

Patrick smiled weakly. “I love you too.”

”Yeah... I’m pretty great.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. Patrick laughed, so happy that Pete could make him feel that way. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he needed Pete in his life. 

“I should get ready... I’m still in my PJs.” Patrick glanced down at his Batman pajamas and scowled. He did not like how they looked on him. Well, nothing really made him feel like he looked good. He kinda had the underlying desire to burn all his clothes and start all over again, but it was just a small desire. Nothing too major. 

Pete whispered to him, “I can hear your self-deprecation through the phone. Stoppit.” 

“Frick, Pete, how do you do that? I really should get ready, though.” Patrick laughed, placing his empty tea mug in the dishwasher. Smithers was done with his food, so Patrick put that bowl in the dishwasher too. Pete said _goodbye_ and _I love you_ , then hung up once Patrick said the same. For an outfit, Patrick wore a light green tee shirt and jeans, topping it off with a newsboy cap. He hoped it looked okay, and felt stupid when he caught himself being self conscious about how he looked when he knew Pete loved him for more than just how he looked. He shoved his wallet in his pocket before checking the time. 11:45 am. Pete would be here in fifteen minutes. For safety, Patrick put his phone in his pocket too. Then, he went outside and sat on the porch step until he saw Pete’s car. 

“Hiya, Patrick!” chimed Pete, “We’re going shopping, did you hear?” he gripped the steering wheel excitedly. Patrick sat in the passenger seat and looked at Pete questioningly. 

“Are you ADHD or something?” he joked, “You seem jumpy today.” 

Pete widened his eyes and smiled. “I do have ADHD, yes, and I forgot my meds today!!” he cheered, tapping his feet quickly. 

Patrick sighed, “Sweet Jesus. Maybe I should drive? Since you can’t focus?” 

Pete shook his head. “I can do this. Just don’t talk to me on the way there, and remind me to keep my eyes on the road every few seconds.” The bassist started the car and backed out of the driveway. Patrick tried not to mention how Pete’s last sentence is a paradox or at least contradictory.

**So, it would be hard to describe the drive in simple paragraphs, so here’s a script of the drive to the mall.**

Patrick: keep your eyes on the road.

Pete: I said to not talk to me.

Patrick: okay, then.

*silence*

Pete: you know, they should let dogs have marriage. Like, if two dogs aren’t siblings and they live together–

Patrick, screaming: KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!! 

Pete: *swerves* Sorry, Patrick. I’ll shut up, now. 

Patrick: okay. 

*silence* 

Pete: maybe your cat and my dog should meet! They could get married! And and and they’d live together! Patrick Patrick Patrick Patrick Patrick, this is a great idea. Are you hearing this? 

Patrick: *sighs* yes, I hear you. Thank you for keeping your eyes on the road. 

Pete: *gasps* you’re proud of me?

Patrick: yes. I’m always proud of you. Turn left here. 

Pete: okay. 

**I always act like that when I forget my meds. If you ask one of my friends how I am without meds, he’ll probably roll his eyes or something. I don’t know. I become a train wreck full of ADHD. Still Patrick’s POV because I don’t wanna lose focus**

The first store Patrick went to was Barnes and Nobles. He loved books, and knew that he and Pete had a mutual friend that worked there. Mikey Way was on break, reading a book in the cafe section. Patrick bought Pete a coffee, since coffee is a stimulant and would help tone the bassist down by just a little. “Hi, Mikey,” he greeted with a smile and wave. Mikey looked up from his phone and smiled back. 

“You and Pete know each other?” he replied, slightly shocked. Then, his gaze dropped to notice their fingers interlocked. “Oh,” he quietly remarked, “I never thought that’d happen.” 

Pete sipped at his coffee and clung to Patrick. “We’re dating!” he chirped, “And Patrick is the _best boyfriend in the world._ He cares about me, he knows his way around a kitchen (which is really hot) and don’t even get me _started_ on how cute he is when I compliment him. Like, lookit. Right now, he’s blushing so hard. It’s his birthday, too, did you know? He’s an adult now.” Pete was shaking with ecstasy as he informed Mikey on every existing detail about Patrick. 

“Pete. PETE. Pete, I’ve known your boyfriend for at least three years by now. I know he’s cool. Relax, okay?” Mikey sighed and stared at his coffee. “Did you take your medicine this morning?”

Patrick spoke for Pete, just to make the answer last less than five minutes. “He did not take his medicine, no. It’s been a long day.” 

“Is that why he has the coffee?” 

“Stimulants, yeah. Now he’ll go from being a five year old to a ten year old. I feel like I have to watch him constantly today. I look away for one second and he’s... where is he?” Patrick glanced to his side and Pete was gone. A panic flickered in his chest. “Mikey. Michael Way, where did Pete go?” 

Mikey snorted, “He’s putting more sugar in his coffee, over there,” Mikey pointed to a black stand, where Pete was “fixing” his coffee. Patrick flinched, realizing he got Pete black coffee, which sucks in most people’s opinions. 

“I gotta go take care of my child,” Patrick sighed, “Thanks for talking to us. Er, thanks for letting Pete talk _at_ you. I’m so sorry for his behaviour today. I’m sure you’ve seen it all before, since you know him too, but in case we got in your way, I’m so sorry.” Patrick began to walk away towards Pete, but Mikey called him back. 

“You are so responsible for your age, Patrick,” Mikey informed, his eyes twinkling. “When I was your age, I complained about hot air or whatever. And for age 17 or 18, it’s kind of normal. Now I’m seeing your maturity and now you live alone, pay bills, have a cat that’s healthy, and manage to keep a crazy boyfriend. It’s remarkable, really. Don’t apologize for anything, since you honestly don’t deserve all that grief. Pete’s a keeper, by the way. Absolutely loves it when you kiss his tattoos.” 

Patrick smiled, confused. “How do you know what he likes romantically?” he asked.

Mikey winked. “He and I were kids once, too. We were in the same grade, so we messed around a little. Nothing too serious, but make sure you kiss him on the necklace of thorns tattoo. He loves it.” Mikey looked at his watch. “And my break ends in two minutes. Here. Take the rest of my coffee. You’ll need it.” he slid the to-go cup in Patrick’s direction.

Patrick shook his head. “You know I can’t–“ 

“I insist. Honestly.”

”No, Mikey...” 

“It’s my fourth cup of coffee today. I have jitters. Happy birthday, Trick.” Mikey stood up, gave Patrick a hug, handed him the cup, and walked away. Patrick stared at the cup. He didn’t know what to do with it. No one in a long time had handed him coffee and genuinely thought he was mature enough to handle not dropping it. He hesitated before taking a sip. Dang, Mikey Way knows how to make a coffee. _I deserve this_ , he tried to tell himself, _It’s my 18th birthday, I deserve a good-tasting coffee for once. Where’s Pete? God, I can’t lose track of Pete_. Patrick walked over to Pete and hugged him from behind. He saw the top of the necklace of thorns tattoo peaking over Pete’s tee shirt, so he kissed it swiftly. Pete relaxed and leaned into Patrick, whispering, “Do it again.” 

Patrick nuzzled the bassist, mumbling in his ear, “We’re in public, Panda. When we get home, though...” he nipped at Pete’s ear. Pete smirked and reached down for Patrick’s hand. 

“I need to give you your birthday present, still!” Pete spun around, excited all over again. “Oh, my God! You’re going to love it. When we get home (my house), I have a surprise for you. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.”

”Never say that ever again if you aren’t talking about...”

“I wasn’t talking about...”

”Good. Cause we agreed we weren’t going to...”

”I remember that conversation.”

”Yeah.”

Another awkward silence followed. Pete was wondering why Patrick didn’t want to ever do the thing, and Patrick was hoping he’d never have to tell Pete why he didn’t want to do the thing. It would be embarrassing to say why, and not even his parents know. Pete finally spoke up, “Can we go to one place before we go home or whatever? It’s kinda my sacred space or whatever. I basically get all my clothes there.” he looked at Patrick hopefully. 

Patrick smirked. “We can look at the trash cans later. For now, let’s look at books.” The singer walked by the foreign languages section to pick up a French book. Pete frowned at him. 

“Baby,” he whimpered, “don’t waste your money on that. You’re already fluent in French, and I have proof.” 

Patrick flipped through the book, raising his eyebrows. “French swears!” he exclaimed, “Pete, I can teach you to say bad words in French!” he looked at Pete as if to say _you know you want to_. Pete crosses his arms stubbornly.

”I know how to say ‘em in English. Why do I need to know in French?” 

“If we ever go on a romantic trip to Paris and someone is mean to us, you need to verbally express yourself,” explained Patrick, “C’mon, babe. It’d be fun.” 

Pete sighed, “Fine, get it. But don’t complain if you don’t have 7.99 in the future, since that 7.99 would’ve been spent on this French book. Hon hon hon oui oui baguette.” 

Patrick laughed, “I need to teach you French. Because first of all, no. Don’t say hon hon hon oui oui baguette ever again. Please.” he kissed Pete softly on the mouth. “It’s because I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Can we go to Hot Topic now?” Pete kissed Patrick back and started to drag him towards the check out line.

”Thank you for being patient, Peter. Yes, we can go to Hot Topic. Just one second. Did I hand you my wallet?” 

“Yeah,” Pete reached into his pocket to give Patrick the wallet. 

Patrick smiled at him and said, “Thanks, Pete.”

”You’re welcome, Patrick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clean comments! I know Pete doesn’t have ADHD, but it’s a fan fiction so I do what I want lmao. The things Pete does without his meds are based on what _I_ do when I forget _my_ ADHD meds. My friends see the craziest side of me when that happens, and I get into this jumpy, manic state where I can’t stop laughing and every few seconds I get a new idea for a fan fiction. This, actually, was the product of an ADHD outburst.


	8. A Sad and Tragic Ending.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to finish what I started  
> Keep a promise I made to you.  
> The story ends; I couldn’t discard it  
> And you, the reader, made it through.  
> -Me, Andrew F.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry...

**five years later**. 

“Patrick...” Pete whispered into the phone, “You need to come home. Quick.” There were tears in his voice, and he wouldn’t stop sniffling. 

Patrick was at HomeGoods, trying to pick out a tie for the upcoming MTV awards. “What’s wrong?” 

Pete sobbed heavily. “It’s Hemingway. He’s laying still, and he’s been like this for an hour, and I’m trying to wake him, a-and he’s not responding.” The bassist was broken hearted. “He might be dead.” 

Patrick almost fainted. Pete was known to be over dramatic, but this sounded serious. “Have you offered him food?” he tried, biting his lip. He didn’t know what answer he _wanted_ to hear, but he didn’t want to have this conversation in general.

Pete sighed. “I did, and he didn’t take it. Even when I offered him people-food, like the sandwich I was eating at the time.” 

“What about saying his favorite words?” Hemingway was known to jump excitedly whenever he heard the words _walk, car ride, Grandma’s house,_ and _ice cream._

“I haven’t tried yet,” some muffled sounds came from the other side, but Patrick could hear Pete whispering softly, “Hemmy. Hemmy, do you want to go on a walk? D-Do you want to go get ice cream? Maybe Grandma wants to see you. P-Please, Hemingway, wake up.” 

It was like listening to an auditory horror story. Patrick set the tie back on the rack and walked out of the store empty handed. He got in his car, slamming his head on the steering wheel. If this was true... if Hemingway was really dead, Pete’s life would be over. He would be obsessed with death for the next few months, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep or eat regularly. Patrick knew his now-husband more than anything, and the next few months were gonna be terrible. “Pete, are you still there?” he mumbled into the phone. 

Pete choked out a sob. “Y-Yeah. I’m here. I need you.” 

Patrick tried to think of what to do. “Have you checked his pulse?” 

“I’m getting nothing. He was 15 years old, anyway. That’s old for a dog.” The bassist was most likely curled up on the floor, holding the dead bulldog to his chest. “We could try to get him taxiderminized, just so I can always be with him.” 

Patrick closed his eyes at the red light. This was going to be like explaining death to a two year old, which was really hard. Especially when the two year old was actually twenty seven and had dealt with death before, but on an extremely personal level. “Pete, we’ll need to talk about this when I get home. We’re not going to taxiderminize him, but we do have photographs of him.” 

“That’s not the same. I need my dog.” 

“I know it’s not the same, Petey. And I know this is gonna be hard, but we’ll make it through, okay? There’s always an answer. I’ll see you at home.” 

“Wait wait wait! Don’t hang up, _please_!” Pete whimpered, “I don’t care if we talk or not. I just need you here with me.”

“O-Okay,” Patrick replied, knowing what Pete meant. Pete wanted him to do the talking. Quietly and softly, Patrick started singing a song he remembered from his childhood. It was extremely popular, so Pete ought to know it.

_Wise men say  
Only fools rush in  
But I can’t help falling in love with you.  
_

He continued the song as comfortingly as he could, noticing that Pete was calm afterwards. The bassist was snoring softly, but he stopped when the song ended. It was just in time for Patrick to get home, too. He bursted through the door and ran to the bedroom, hanging up the phone when he saw Pete.

Pete was curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. He was, in fact, holding Hemingway to his chest. Patrick got on his knees next to his husband and stroked his ebony hair. “It’s gonna be okay, Pete. He’s in... he’s in heaven?” 

Pete turned to look at him. “That’s bullcrap and you know it. There’s no way he can be in heaven. Anyone worthy of being called ‘good boy’ by Pete Wentz is going to Hell.” Pete smiled for a split second before squeezing Hemingway tightly and whispering, “But maybe this one’s an exception. _Everyone_ called him ‘good boy’ and he deserved it. You know what I’m saying?” 

Patrick laid down on his side and spooned his husband, reaching his hand over to pet Hemingway, however dead the pup was. It was like cuddling a hyper realistic stuffed animal. “I want to keep him,” he murmured, “but that’d be unhealthy.” 

“But I love him! I love him and I want to keep him as my pet forever! He’s been my best friend since I was twelve. I can’t bury him or even say goodbye. His... his nose is still wet. Patrick...” 

Patrick shushed him, kissing the back of his neck for comfort. “It’s okay, my love... calm down. When you’re ready to talk about him, let’s sit down together and I’ll let you tell me your favorite memories of him. Okay?” 

Pete whimpered and pushed his back against Patrick’s chest. “Okay... can you tell me a story? Or just something to get my mind off of this?”

”What type of story?” 

“I don’t know. Um, tell me about the best thing that ever happened to you. You can be as detailed as you want.” Pete closed his eyes and kissed Hemingway on the forehead. 

Patrick laid still for a second. The best thing that ever happened to him? Half the story is from someone else’s perspective, so he would have to improvise. Whatever. He’d try to get as much of it accurate as he could. After clearing his throat and nuzzling Pete’s ear a couple times (just for slightly playful comfort) he finally found where to begin. At the start. 

“Pete strolls down the streets of downtown Chicago, holding Hemmingway's leash tight in his hand. The breeze moves softly through his ebony bangs, lifting them up then pushing them back against his forehead. The smell of nearby stores and pizza stands drift through the air, too, creating the most peaceful Chicago scene in history...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t hate me. Clean comments?


End file.
